Stories
by lifeinahole
Summary: Edward tells Alfonse Heiderich a little bit about his homelife.  Drabble, plotless, AU.


Title: Stories

Author: lifeinahole27

Pairing: Edward/Heiderich

Rating: R

Warnings: Sex references

Word Count: 798

Disclaimer: Yes! I've finally remembered it! Quite simply: I don't own these characters. They are only being used for entertainment, and no money. Don't sue me, I'm poor.  
A/N: Quick German reference—Was what, nichts nothing. It just fit, to put it in. Sorry guys! This story is written, of course, as if the movie never happened.

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Edward Elric rarely talked about his past. He kept to himself whenever a group shared childhood memories. He would quietly mention that he had a brother if anyone asked. And he never talked about his father, even though everyone knew Hoenheim.

Alfonse Heiderich regretted asking Edward about it as soon as he saw the pain in the other man's eyes. Edward assured him, despite the look in his eyes that it was alright. He tamped down the swell of homesickness that washed over him, smiling after a minute and telling Alfonse about his brother. There still wasn't a lot of detail, especially about his mother or why he came to Munich, but Alfonse didn't dare pry.

"There was this one time…" Edward spoke German fluidly now. He had stumbled his way through the foreign language when he first moved in with Alfonse. Now there was just a slight accent that only someone new to the language had.

Ed launched into a tale that would be unbelievable if it weren't Edward. Alfonse tried to picture it all: Edward with his metal arm, and his brother in a giant suit of armor. He couldn't imagine how Alphonse had moved around in such a thing, or this alchemy that Edward spoke of so much. Such things were dreams of children in this world.

Alfonse laughed at the sight in his mind of a large, shirtless man carrying Edward under one arm, and a box with Alphonse's armor over the other shoulder. He laughed as Edward told him of the enthusiastic alchemist, and his i sparkling /i personality. He laughed as Edward laughed, even though that same sadness lingered in the older boy's eyes.

Edward was wrapped up in his storytelling. He knew Alfonse didn't understand most of what he was saying. But how could he when he knew nothing of alchemy, or Al's true situation. It had been so long since he had spoken about his former life that, despite the pain he was enjoying it. He knew this Al was not his brother, but that was okay.

It was better than okay when, after the laughter subsided, he leaned in suddenly and kissed Alfonse. The shocked gasp that came from the younger man stopped Edward momentarily. He had forgotten where he was, who he was with, what he was doing when their lips touched, but then Alfonse pulled him closer, bringing their lips together again.

Edward felt a pool of wanting settle into his stomach. They had moved from sitting at the kitchen table to the couch; easier to access and touch and grab and pull and feel for both of them. Alfonse had pulled open Edward's vest, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt while Edward anxiously pulled on Al's suspenders, muttering something about him being "just like Russ".

"Was?" Alfonse asked, stopping momentarily.

"Nichts," Edward replied simply, finally freeing Alfonse from the suspenders and working on his shirt buttons. Shirts were discarded, thrown carelessly to the floor, and Edward was pressing Alfonse into the couch.

From there it was all intuition. Edward had never touched Alfonse before, but he knew where to lick, where to bite, where to run his fingers. It felt, as they explored each others' bodies, as if they already knew the other.

They had the same rhythm, the same breathing, the same pulse beating through both of them. It all felt so familiar and so foreign at the same time.

At some point, Edward reverted back to his own language and Alfonse could understand nothing but his own name. Edward's name became a chant, falling from his lips to the same rhythm they had adapted.

After, Edward apologized saying that he lost himself sometimes. Alfonse laughed, pulling him down for another kiss.

"Which are you apologizing for: the sex or the language?" He asked, holding tight although they were both sweaty and sticking together from the waist down.

"Both?" Edward responded, at least having the decency to blush as he said this. Alfonse laughed again, pushing a stray piece of hair out of Edward's eyes.

"We need to clean up. And go to sleep," Alfonse said, unwilling to move but still pushing lightly to roll Edward off of him.

"One day you'll get home," Alfonse said as they headed towards the bathroom. Edward stopped as soon as he said it, that flash of homesickness coming again. But this time he smiled, nodded his head, and followed Alfonse as they washed and dressed for bed.

That night, Edward slept in Alfonse's bed, wrapped securely in Alfonse's arms. Alfonse just hoped he hadn't been lying… He knew the regret of that lie would be worse than just bringing back memories. He tightened his grip on the older man, willing himself to sleep while praying silently for a miracle.


End file.
